


Parts Unknown

by Le0na



Series: Parts Unknown [1]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Onward (2020)
Genre: Dimension Travel, Dragon Names, Dragons have their own words for certain things, Gen, It's not as complicated as it sounds, Language Barrier, Misunderstandings, Other POV switch indicated by linebreak, POV switch between dragon and rider indicated by lingo change, Post-Onward (2020), Pre-How To Train Your Dragon 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:39:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Le0na/pseuds/Le0na
Summary: A spell gone wrong.Hiccup and Toothless were fond of the unknown. They loved the new, the unexplored. Not like this.Colt didn't sign up to deal with a crazy maybe-Elf and a wild dragon big enough to carry them. The world didn't care.
Series: Parts Unknown [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819471
Comments: 170
Kudos: 167





	1. In Which There Is Fear

**Author's Note:**

> I saw Onward and immediately had to write this.

There was no way they could’ve turned. Hiccup knew that. He knew Toothless knew that. It did nothing to lessen the guilt.

Just minutes before the sun was high and wind roared in their ears. Toothless had cut loose on their afternoon flight over the island. Hiccup loved it. The exhilaration of flight never got old no matter how often they touched the clouds.

Then it all went wrong.

Before he could blink day turned to night. A faint blue edge where the world shifted barely registered, the wall appearing before them garnering ever so slightly more attention. There was no way they could’ve slowed down in time.

Hiccup winced when another rock fell. The world was spinning and the extra noise did  _ not _ help, only adding to the bizarre cacophony of their new surroundings. He leaned forward over the dragon’s head. “Hey,” he said, “are you okay?”

Toothless cracked an eye and let out a high moan.  _ Give me a minute. _

Fortunately and it wasn’t the first high-speed battle they’d ever had with a rock. Hiccup knew it would be a matter of minutes before Toothless was okay again. In the meantime he’d better take stock of  _ what exactly just happened?! _

Strange noises were everywhere, lots of clattering and voices. He perked an ear but couldn't make out a single word. A rhythmic portion of the clattering grew closer. He fumbled with the saddle clip a moment, disconnecting and scrambling over the rumble to face the noise. It took a moment to recognise them as hoofbeats.

Hiccup took a step back as bright, blinding light illuminated the area. He squinted, unable to make out the source. From the other side of the light a voice spoke  _ something. _ It sounded like gibberish. “What?” He said, squinting.

The voice spoke again, urgency coloring still incomprehensible words.

“I still don’t-” The light lowered, giving a good look at the being speaking. He wished it didn’t.

Muscle and sinew bare against air. No skin anywhere. Both horse and rider. No. The rider’s torso fused to the steed.

Inferno’s light was nowhere near the brightness of the creature’s. Some quiet part in the back of his mind repeated that fact. It was drowned out by surprise, fear, and a primal need to put something between him and the creature.

Blood pulsed in his ears. Man and creature stood at a standstill. More and more things registered the longer he looked. A hat. A shirt. It spoke again. Hiccup couldn’t make out a single thing over his own heartbeat.

Rubble shifted behind him as Toothless got up. The dragon turned whip-quick and hissed. The creature took a step back. The Night Fury stood above him and growled. The creature  _ shook. _ It moved to grab something dangling where the torsos met and Hiccup almost lost his grip on Inferno when Toothless grabbed him by the back of his armor.

Toothless sprang up the sheer face of the rock wall. Claws caught the edge and with a jerk they were over the side. A practiced flick of the head tossed Hiccup back on his saddle and the two took to the skies.

Then he noticed the two moons.

* * *

The biggest dragon the residents of New Mushroonton usually saw was a mural. The largest  _ living _ one was the less than energetic Snarf Hunter owned by Mr. and Mr. Brighteyes. It was a great lanky thing, all tail and no energy. The only dragons one had to worry about were Liam and Chainsaw. Tiny Keeper Rings with wings bigger than their bodies, horns longer than their snouts, and egos larger than the two combined. They’d set your pants on fire soon as look at you.

Dragons were diverse creatures. From little Jacken Jumpers to Giant Mountain Writhlings the breeds of domestic dragon were varied as they were numerous. Colt saw his fair share in his years of the force. Not always under good circumstances. The amount of hate and misinformation surrounding Snaggertooths and Great Horned Limbeds never failed to set his fur on end. They were no more dangerous than any other dragon yet so often were the go-to breeds for folks with no right to be in charge of their own lives, much less someone else’s.

He’d seen time and time again it was the people on the end of the leash you needed to watch. Any dragon could be dangerous in the wrong hands, regardless of size.

A few weeks ago Officer Bronco was a traffic cop. It was a fine career, plenty of room for upward movement. Then the school tried to eat Mrs. Lightfoot and her kids and certain things were brought to the surface. Ideas long buried. He’d sworn off his car. The chief wasn’t about to let an officer pull over vehicles on hoof, regardless of speed, so it was time for a transfer.

The dragon thoughts were probably coming from his new position. With some training and a sizable stack of paperwork Bronco was the newest and lowest ranked member of the Animal Control Division.

Confidence borrowed from his new family would be key in working his way up the ranks. Confidence, and speed. They needed someone fast on their hooves. Good for chasing down strays, they’d said. He wouldn’t see anything bigger than a domestic Chamrosh,* they’d said. 

It was all hands on deck.

The whole mess began when Simondrial called, screaming about a dragon. Colt knew Simondrial. They sometimes ran into each other at the farrier. The man was sweet as sugar, if a bit on the smelly side. Anyone who spoke with the nuckelavee for more than five minutes would tell you he absolutely  _ loved _ dragons. Owned and gushed over a spoiled pair of Ghronic Thrimbolts.

For Simondrial to be yelling about a  _ dragon _ of all things? Heads turned.

The call didn’t start off quite that bad. First it was “just” an elf with a sense of fashion his step-son would approve of. Then said elf started spouting gibberish and pulled out what Simondrial called a “Oh hell! What- What?! What is?? Is that a sharding  _ fire sword?!” _

_ Then _ the dragon picked him up and climbed out of the alley. The only description the nuckelavee could provide was “bigger than a unicorn and darker than the night sky.” Nobody blamed Simondrial for freezing. He was your average traffic cop, untrained and unprepared for something like  _ that. _ Heck, Colt  _ had _ the training and  _ he _ wasn’t prepared.

Especially not after Simondrial gave a full debrief. He was reviewing the tail end of the encounter when something unexpected came to light.

“What happened to the Elf?” The office braced themselves, preparing for the worst.

“Dragon took ‘em.” At the still horrified looks on the team’s faces, Simondrial added, “Not like that! Damn thing scruffed ‘em.”

“I’m sorry, it what?”

“Scruffed ‘em. You know, like mothers do with their hatchlings.”

“And the Elf fought it?”

He shook his head, “Seemed perfectly fine with it.”

The Greater New Wilderlands Force was prepared to deal with crazy people. They were equipped -though not well- to deal with a wild dragon. But both at once? An unease filled the room, one Colt couldn’t help but agree with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A creature with the body of a dog and the head and wings of an eagle.


	2. In Which They Are Not Ready

Thoroughly shocked, Hiccup let Toothless guide him. Toothless would know where to go, where it was safe. The number of times the dragon steered him wrong could be counted on one hand with fingers left over. Add in the factor of said times being traps and Hiccup knew he could count on his friend.

It was about the only thing he knew.

The creatures he might have been able to rationalize. Perhaps he was on an explored island. One with creatures he’d yet to discover. It made sense. He encountered new species of dragons often enough, why not other things? The buildings and lights below him, stretching farther and brighter than he’d ever encountered, they could be explained if his mind had a little time to catch up. Day turning to night was a little harder to explain without bringing in divine intervention, but...

But then there were those moons…

Moon, plural. Did Sol and Mani have another sibling? It didn’t make any _sense._ Where on Midgard could you see two moons?

The realization hit him as Toothless dove for a line of rapidly moving lights. Whether the revelation or sudden altitude drop left him lightheaded Hiccup didn’t know.

They weren’t _on_ Midgard anymore.

Toothless spread his wings a little, ducking beneath the stream of lights. He glided to a gentle stop. Hiccup groaned long and low, slumping forward in the saddle. Toothless’s deep breaths were a soothing balm on an otherwise insane situation.

“What are we gonna _do_ bud? I don’t even know how we got _into_ this situation, never mind getting out.”

Toothless blinked and sat back on his haunches, pulling his partner into his chest with a paw. He stumbled back with no resistance. Both rider and dragon sat, soaking in the events.

“Where on Yggdrasil are we?” Hiccup finally said. He shifted in the dragon’s grip, unclipping the flap holding his notebook. He scrawled a quick list, immediately crossing off Muspelheim and Midgard. After a moment of thought Nilfheim was marked out.

“We’ve got six realms left.” He looked up to Toothless’s face. “What do you think?”

A rumbling coo shook his bones in the way of an answer. His helmet jostled with the ensuing lick. Hiccup sighed and removed it, squirming from the dragon’s grip. He gave the notebook one last look. Thanks to those two moons he could just barely make out his own writing.

“You’re right.” He buckled the panel once more. Helmet tucked under one arm he turned to his friend. “Where do you want to sleep?”

Echolocation bounced off the walls. A suitable alcove found, Stealth Threat picked up his Drop Horn by his scruff and climbed. While the dragon worked best in the darkness, he knew his Drop Horn didn’t. Despite Best Mistake’s efforts, coating himself in his shed scales, making his own almost-wings, the Drop Horn wasn’t made for the night.

Even with the added light of the massive nest surrounding them, he wouldn’t be able to see like Stealth-Threat could. So when Best Mistake asked his question -a dumb one he knew all too well- regarding who should take first watch, Stealth Threat wrapped him in his paws, covered him with his wings, and lay down on his side.

He looked out on the two moons, the bright nest. Down on the too-smooth stone and strange smells. The Drop Horn wouldn’t be able to make much out, but Stealth Threat knew he could see just well enough.

And thus, so could the creatures. Stealth Threat didn’t know how good their eyesight was, but his Drop Horn was the baseline assumption for anything not dragon. Even with their abysmal dark sight Best Mistake would still be able to make him out against the lighter night sky.

Stealth Threat -and thus Best Mistake- relied on stealth and wit to make it through life. With one of those crippled Stealth Threat knew he’d need Best Mistake’s beautiful, terrible mind to make it. The Drop Horn’s gentle breaths shifted to slower, deeper ones.

A side of the dragon’s mouth quirked up in a smile. They were alone, in unknown territory. He’d need all the sleep he could. Ears pricked and eyes scanned the dark. And nothing would get in his way.

* * *

“What do we know?” The Lieutenant snapped.

Lieutenant Nolis Lilitu didn’t cut the most intimidating figure. Not at first glance, anyway. Then she opened her beak and you saw the fire in her eyes. Rumor around the office was the rust-colored feathers around the base of her crest was blood she could never wash out.

Colt wasn’t sure he believed that, but he wasn’t about to ask.

“There’s a wild dragon and an Elf.” Said Jack. “The Elf didn’t speak any language Simondrial could recognize and had some kind of flammable device. The dragon seemed to express protective behavior towards the Elf.”

“Is there any surveillance footage from the encounter?”

“Negative.”

“Then we have our first task. I want someone combing traffic cams twenty-four seven. Let’s set up some camed traps too. I’m not counting on much, but we might be able to catch this thing on camera. See what we’re dealing with.”

“Should we mic ‘em?” Asked Officer Kiri. The shorter centaur was known for strange ideas. Sometimes they worked, sometimes they didn’t, and sometimes they weren’t so strange. It seemed they’d come across one of the latter.

“Why?”

“Simondrial couldn’t figure out what language the Elf was speaking. Supposedly they left together amicably, so it’s very possible they’re still traveling together.”

“If so, traps aren’t going to be very effective, are they?” Jack said.

“Nope! But if we can figure out what language that Elf is speaking then we might be able to reason with them, right?” Chirped back Kiri.

Lieutenant Lilitu gave the younger centaur a considering look and nodded. “Alright. Let’s put out a line.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some unknown reason this chapter was briefly deleted a few days after publication. Apologies to those of you whose comments have been deleted.


	3. In Which There Was A Short Calm

Hiccup knew what to do when he woke up to all encompassing warmth and darkness. He pushed his friend’s wing up and squinted against the morning light. It was nowhere as bright as expected considering they were tucked under an overhang. The meager light peeking through did provide one important piece of information. It proved this realm  _ had _ a day time.

He yawned and stretched, blinking sleep from his eyes. “Hey bud,” he said, climbing out from Toothless’s grip, “my turn.”

The Night Fury’s head hit stone with a thud and was snoring before Hiccup finished his walk to the ledge. As he sat down and readjusted his leg Hiccup made note of the drop. It was a little longer than he was with arms outstretched. Easy enough to get down, but trickier to climb back up.

They had emergency rations to last three days. Four or five if they stretched. Toothless wouldn’t be happy with dried food. Hiccup tore into a piece of bread and got to thinking.

What realm had they landed in? The skinless creature was nothing like he’d ever heard of. What else inhabited this world? Exhilaration and fear tore him in different directions. Exploration always did that, but this was something more. A new realm, not simply a new land or species. It was so much bigger than anything he’d ever dreamed of.

How’d they get there in the first place? Some divine trick perhaps? Hiccup searched for a different explanation, one he could do something about. With every dive into explanation he came back to the same answer.

Instead of going in circles Hiccup knew he needed to focus on what he  _ could _ change. After a moment of thought he narrowed it down to two options. Either they could contact the locals for help, or they could try to locate resources in this strange realm on their own. Both came with their own risks.

On one hand they had no idea how the locals would react. They didn’t even know  _ what _ the locals were. For all they knew, the skinless creature made up the population of this realm.

On the other, they had no way of knowing what awaited in the wilderness either. Or even if there  _ was  _ wilderness. For all they knew, this village stretched on forever.

Either way, he wasn’t about to go anywhere without Toothless. That left him a bit of time to kill. He brought out a small handful of nuts and popped one in his mouth.

Strange sounds were everywhere. Above them there was a great rushing, almost like river rapids. It seemed more mechanical than water, as though someone were forging by the riverbank. Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. You’d always have a source of cool water… he jotted notes in his book.

He got so wrapped in his own thoughts he didn’t notice the dragon until it bit his foot. The tugging on his false leg raised his eyes to a small blue dragon about twice the size of a terror. It had a long snout with a crest like a Nadder and a single bladed tail.

“Well hello there!” He said, scooping the little thing up. One hand supported its chest and the other kept the fire breathing bits pointed away from his face. The dragon’s long body wrapped his arm. “Hey Toothless, we’ve got company.”

The Night Fury slit an eye open and leveled his rider a flat stare. The tiny dragon froze.

“Yeah, yeah. Go back to sleep. I’ll be over here figuring out what this little guy is.”

Among other things, it was collared. Some people did that to dragons too young to bond. It was usually on their tails or legs in order to keep track of the hatchlings, but he’d also seen some folks collar the necks. It was less common considering the choking risk inherent in the dragon choking on metal before the collar could be removed. This collar was loose cloth. Any dragon could burn or tear it off without a thought.

“Now that’s odd.” he mused. The dragon was still rigid, staring over his shoulder at Toothless. “Oh, don’t mind him. He’s just grumpy because he’s tired.”

It wasn’t a Sharp class, that was for sure. Didn’t look like a Boulder either. Maybe a Tracker or Mystery?

A sharp lilt drew his attention from the reptile. Just below him was a bizarre amalgamation of a creature with the head of a white vulture and body of a woman. She wore a colorful dress unlike any Hiccup had ever seen.

For a moment neither Hiccup nor the creature moved. The little dragon squirmed from his grip. It scurried to the bird-woman’s side and fluttered up to rest across her shoulders. She trilled at it and scratched under its chin with feathered hands. The little thing chirped, letting out a happy burst of flame.

Hiccup smiled. Strange creature or not, these beings were friendly with dragons. At least, this one was.

“That’s a lovely dragon you have there. What do you call it?”

In lieu of answering the woman(?) threw him a dirty look, something unfairly easy to do when one had the head of a bird. She said  _ something _ in a language Hiccup couldn’t begin to guess at.

“Lady, I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

Her beak snapped shut with an audible clack and she narrowed her eyes. After a long look she turned and motioned for him to follow.* It was as good an invitation as they were going to get.

“Hey bud. Sorry, but we’ve gotta go.” The dragon squinted an eye again and huffed, hauling to his feet. Hiccup climbed down, Toothless soon following.

The bird-woman shrieked and ran.

The duo exchanged looks. They needed to  _ go. _

* * *

The day started off fairly normal for Colt. The only thing even remotely strange was that Ian fell asleep at his desk and apparently had been there all night. Apparently the kid had been researching portal spells all night, practicing for a day-trip he’d wanted to take to Raven’s Point.

That, and the dragon-Elf combination call from the previous day rearing its ugly heads.

Mrs. Eliese had come running in, shouting about a giant dragon. It took a bit to calm her down, but after a few minutes they managed to get the full story.

She’d been out for her morning walk with her dragon when the reptile darted off. She gave chase, finding him in the arms of an Elf wearing some kind of all black outfit. She snapped at them to let her dragon down and they complied.

The Elf seemed to speak a different language, and combined with the other strange things Eliese believed they may be from a different place. She offered to help them find someone who could understand and they’d gotten up to follow.

She thought they turned to talk to a friend just out of sight due to the ledge but then a giant dragon jumped down after them. She ran straight to the cops.

Both Elf and dragon matched Simondrial’s description.

Then the first call came in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Of course, this was all under the assumption any gestures were the same in this realm. For all Hiccup knew it might mean there was an active volcano out West. Until confirmation otherwise he would work under the assumption they were the same.


	4. In Which They Run

They wouldn’t have long before the guard came.*

It’d happened before. Granted, it usually didn’t involve a bird-headed person or her(?) dragon. There was no mistaking that reaction though.

“C’mon bud, we gotta go.” Even an exhausted Night Fury was unmatched in the sky. All they needed to do was get high enough and everything would be okay. They’d be able to spot a safe place to rest. Hiccup had wanted to wait for Toothless to regain some energy first, but that was no longer an option.

He hopped onto the saddle, clicked the tailfin to the right gear, and they were off.

The sound hit them almost immediately. Hiccup’s hands flew to his ears on reflex. Toothless lurched, avoiding a crash by the tips of his claws. He clung to the side of the building and shook. He dragged them onto the roof with a heave and flopped to the ground, head buried under his paws. Hiccup's own hands were on his ears in an instant.

The source of the sound wasn’t hard to spot. What looked like a stream of lights at night became a rushing river of carts and clatter in daylight. From beneath it hadn’t been so bad, but now it was louder than a dozen forges hammering away.

It was nothing like he’d ever heard, but not something he couldn’t combat. He winced at the mere thought of removing his hands from his head. He knew he had to. The viking took a deep breath, steeled his nerve, prayed to whoever would listen, and stuck a hand in the saddlebag.

It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for. A lump of wax was a useful thing to keep around for multiple reasons, not the least of which being earplugs. It was a use he was all too familiar with. Luckily, this meant he had experience. He kneaded and sculpted the first set with practiced ease.

The noise faded in his ears, Hiccup swiftly fashioned a pair for Toothless. The dragon rose to shaky paws and looked to his rider with tired eyes. Hiccup’s mouth set to a thin line.

Someone up there had listened, and apparently hated them. There was no other explanation for luck that bad. It  _ couldn’t _ be coincidence that the moment he helped his poor friend block out the noise a great burst of wind bore down upon them.

It wasn’t any single gust either. No, instead a strong, sustained, and -again- loud gale kept pressing. Something big and metallic hovered above them. A shimmering circle hovered just above it.

Green eyes -human and dragon- met. Understanding and distaste passed mutual and unspoken between them. They knew what this meant. It wasn’t good. The pressure from the thing above them beating down was too strong. As long as it hovered above them, they were grounded.

They ran.

* * *

Colt did  _ not _ like it. They needed to be out there ten minutes ago.

“Charlie back with those nets?”

“Right here! Gonna run for another batch.”

Hooves echoed hollow against the concrete lot as Colt paced. Around him vehicles were being loaded. Equipment checks and the occasional location update combined for a racket to behold.

“Where  _ is _ Jack? We need that cage!”

It was better than the inside.

A traffic chopper. That’s what managed to find them. It was making the normal route up three forty-one when a dark shape caught the attention of an eagle-eyed cameraman. They’d been keeping the thing company ever since.

That was five minutes ago. They’d been bouncing calls from concerned citizens ever since. Yes, they knew there was a dragon. Yes, they saw the rider. No, they couldn’t identify the species. Yes, they were working on that.

That little fact put everyone more on edge than they already were. An impressive feat, if Colt was being honest. The prior alarm was due to the dragon having a  _ rider. _ Ambiguity and mystery got people hurt or killed in this kind of work. Animals and people were inherently unpredictable, but the former at least usually had patterns you could predict based on species.

They had neither.

He hadn’t been delegated a job. He “didn’t know the storage like the veterans.” Colt supposed that was fair. He mainly got in the way when loading the trucks too. It didn’t mean he like the orders to “wait, watch and be ready on the word.”

It gave him plenty of time to get a live feed of the chopper on his phone. The guys inside had pointed something out. Something Colt saw on their screens but didn’t quite believe. It was hard to make out there, almost impossible to see on a tiny phone screen. Almost, but not quite. It left no doubt though.

The dragon wore a saddle.

A mystery species was one thing. A rider another. But a saddle?

Some of the team had theorized the Elf might be feral. It wasn’t common for a sapient creature to be raised by animals, but Colt had heard stories. Usually it was of species who shared at least some physical trait though, like a centaur among hippogryphs. An Elf and a dragon? Unlikely, but still technically possible. It certainly would explain the Elf’s lack of language skills and the dragon.

The getup threw a bit of a wrench into the theory, but could be worked around if one made the assumption the Elf found or stole said clothing. Again, not particularly likely, especially considering no one could identify where the clothing came from. Still not the biggest leap in logic. The fire sword though, that was less a spanner in the works and more of a shovel.

The saddle was a f’rgraking  _ grenade. _

The elf had the resources and/or connections to make the dragon a saddle.

The catchpole shoved into his hands broke his train of thought.

“Oi Bronco! We’re moving!”

Hooves thudded against the road. The radio crackled. He didn’t have any more time to think over the broadcast. Not anymore. No time to consider the dragon’s stumble or its dual-colored tail. His hackles raised and tail gave a nervous twitch mid-stride.

No, Colt did not like it one  _ bit. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Once again assuming this place had any kind of guard.


	5. In Which Things Go Wrong And Things Go Right

He couldn’t hear Toothless’s panting over rushing wind and earplugs, never mind the extra noise of the giant village and thing hovering above them. The viking knew his friend though. He knew the rise and fall of the dragon’s sides shouldn’t be so harsh.

“C’mon bud.” Hiccup would take a turn carrying the dragon if he could. Instead he was relegated to covering his blinds spots while his tired friend leapt from rooftop to rooftop. The loud hovering thing followed them. Try as they might, they couldn’t escape its downdraft.

Toothless lunged for another building. Stone gave way under his claws and weight. He scrambled over the edge. He was by no means a slow dragon, not on wing and not on foot. Many dragons weren’t adept when it came to grounded maneuvering. Toothless wasn’t one of them. But there was only so fast one could run in unfamiliar, hostile terrain. Their pursuer didn’t have that disadvantage.

His mind raced. They needed to shake it. But how? Jumping down wasn’t an option. The paths below were too much or a risk. They didn’t know the layout and the buildings were so tightly packed it would only be a matter of time before they were cornered down there.

Hiccup leaned against Toothless’s neck. The scent of dragon and leather mingled with the strange stench of the village. Zippleback gas wouldn’t work as a smokescreen. The moment he released it’d be blown away.

They either needed to outrun it or find a place to duck out, and the former wasn’t working. Paws thudded and they were on another roof. Hiccup looked about for an overhang. The largest ones were on the ground and any others were nowhere near long enough to cover either of them.

Toothless was slowing. His sides were heaving. Hiccup’s heart pounded in his throat. They were out of time.

They needed a new plan. A new target. Old tactics.

“We’re gonna need to make ourselves an entrance.”

The night Fury grunted. Hiccup leaned right, aiming for the wall just below the next roof. The telltale shriek of a plasma blast whistled past. Stone crumbled before them. They leapt into the new area, almost slamming into the opposite wall. They froze, neither no much as blinking while they waited. Did the thing fall for it?

Dragon and rider looked at each other as the cacophonous noise began to fade. A small smile made its way to the dragon’s face and hiccup let out a small sigh of relief. As if it heard him -for all he knew it did- the thing came right back.

The noise drowned out his cursing. He peered through their impromptu entrance. It hovered right above them, harsh downdrafts rending the route unuseable.

Toothless’s legs shook. He rushed to the dragon’s side. “Take a break bud.” He said, hand on his shoulder, “I’ll keep watch.” Toothless looked to him, asking a silent question. Hiccup nodded. The dragon collapsed, head lolling

Hiccup crouched beside his friend for only a moment. The hovering thing was bound to attract attention. He stood, determination flaring.

Toothless was in no shape for another chase. Again, they had two options. Again, only one was viable.

They had to make a stand. _He_ had to make a stand.

His heart jumped to his throat before plummeting to his knees. There was no way of knowing what would come, much less how many. Hiccup’s mind forged and destroyed new ideas with a fervor found only in the cornered or insane.

What did they have? Rubble, wax, some scraps, rope, his weapons, and some rations. The room itself was all but barren, containing only smooth almost-stone walls and an abandoned paintbrush.

The only exit was a set of steps at the end of a narrow corridor. They curved down and below to another room. He started there. Assuming the attackers were human-sized they’d only be able to fit two side by side. He could use that.

Setting up the traps didn’t take long. Neither did the guards finding them.

Hiccup didn’t take pleasure in the pain of others. He _did_ take pleasure in plans working smoothly. The small shred of satisfaction he got from the clatter of traps and guard’s pained groans did little against the tension wound in every muscle.

A footstep echoed in the upper hall. Then another. He didn’t let it take a third.

He charged the bird-person with a cry of, “You’ll never take him!” It crashed into the wall. He didn’t stop. He raced down the steps, over creatures stunned by falling rubble.

He raised Inferno between him and the creatures. Between Toothless and the creatures. One of them spoke. Again, he couldn’t understand. Unlike before though, he could recognise one thing. The tone.

It was one he was all too familiar with, having used it before on multiple occasions. He used it when he’d wanted people to calm down and talk things out rather than go straight to their weapons. Hiccup’s eyes narrowed. This was… _unexpected._

Inferno slipped down a touch. Maybe this was all one big misunderstanding.

Or maybe it was a trap.

The grab from behind was also unexpected. Hiccup stomped on the thing’s foot. It shrieked. He jammed an elbow back and ducked another grab. His heart raced. He slipped under the swing of a yak-headed creature. There were too many. He jumped the coil of a snake-person. His dagger found only armor. He knocked aside a blue creature with an elbow.

The inside of his helmet was too hot. He couldn’t use Zippleback gas. Not in such an enclosed space, not with Toothless right above them.

His foot caught something. A blow to his side. The world spun to a halt.

A foot was on his chest. Clawed hands held down his wrists. Inferno dropped. He snarled.

The ceiling shrieked.

* * *

Charlie had the Elf disarmed and on his back when the ceiling exploded. Or -more accurately- the dragon exploded _through_ the ceiling. At the end of the day it didn’t really matter.

The dragon swatted Charlie away with a single swipe of its paw. Green eyes narrowed to slits. It crouched over the Elf and roared.

If Colt were to compare it to anything, it would probably be thunder filtered through the maw of a bird. Great black wings -each larger than the creature’s body- flapped as it reared onto its hind legs. It gave a scream and thudded back to the floor, claws digging into solid wood.

It glared at us and hissed, challenging any one of us to take another step. A purple glow burned in its mouth.

Someone threw a net. The dragon knocked it from the air with a single shot. Not a stream of fire, a shot. Colt took a step back. Could _nothing_ be normal?

It couldn’t deflect two nets at once. The thin-meshed dragon-resistant metal withstood another four blasts before the dragon gave up. It hissed and lowered itself. Not in submission, but to protect the stunned Elf beneath it.

With the creature and its rider at least somewhat restrained, Jack started chewing out the Lieutenant for interfering when they were making progress. The Elf was lowering its weapon when she spooked ‘em and everything wound up a lot more stressful than it needed to be.

Lieutenant Lilitu would have none of Jack’s ‘what could’ve been’ nonsense, as she put it. “It turned out like it turned out.” She snapped, “You two! Get the cage.”

By the time Colt and Charlie got back with the cage -a long metal box with slits cut in the sides and top- the Elf was completely wrapped in the dragon’s wings.

“I don’t think any of us are getting through that grip. Certainly not with the net in the way.”

The dragon turned and hissed at the speaker as though to emphasize their point. It stayed like that the entire transport.


	6. In Which No Questions Are Answered

It was dark. Dark and warm and they were moving. He didn’t know where. It wasn’t the words trap he’d ever been in, but a cage was still a cage when the birds landed.* The net they were wrapped in didn’t help anything either.

At least he still had his rider. Stealth Threat knew better than most it wasn’t the size of the being, or the tools they used, but _how_ they used those tools which made them dangerous. His fire was one of the most powerful of any dragon, but if he couldn’t aim it was useless.

His rider, his Best Mistake, had no powerful fire. He had no sharp claws, no venomous spines, no acid spit. No blinding speed or bone-crushing strength. He was the most dangerous being Stealth Threat had ever met.

With Best Mistake by his side he knew they had a chance. He nuzzled the Drop Horn’s head fur and let out a low comforting rumble. It was dark and warm. Exhaustion dragged at his limbs. Before he knew it, unable to help it, Stealth Threat was asleep.

* * *

Half a dozen Nucove Zoo employees met them when they arrived. It took all of them plus two officers to lift the cage.

A few of the officers mulled about the facility, unsure what to do. Others headed right out, presumably returning to home offices. A few had stayed at the scene of the incident for documentation purposes. Colt could only assume forensics were examining the Elf’s fire sword as he followed the transport cage through the corridors of the Nucove facility.

Colt trotted over to the enclosure where the resident Exotic Dragon Specialist, Lieutenant Lilitu, and two technicians were overseeing the dragon’s transfer from transport cage to enclosure. The Specialist -Dr. Heisel- glanced at him.

“So, what do you think?” Asked the Lieutenant. Her eyes didn’t leave the cage. Colt was unsure who the question was aimed at.

The dragon had yet to leave its transport. They could only wait for it to enter the enclosure of its own volition. It was a standard temporary setup for large dragons, or so he’d been told. Taller than it was long or wide with stone slabs jutting from various walls at odd angles. All but one wall was concrete, the last being a reinforced plexiglass observation window.

They were lucky the Nucove Zoo offered to house the dragon. The largest cage at the shelter wouldn’t amount to half of the one in front of them. And that was _without_ mentioning the increased experience and training of zoo staff when it came to handling with large animals.

“I think it’s asleep.” Said Dr. Heisel. The Elf squinted through her glasses at the nearly motionless dragon. It was laying on its side and had Colt been unable to make out the rise and fall of its sides he would’ve thought it dead.

As if on cue an eye slit open. It froze a moment, eye darting around before moving its wings and ducking its head back. Its ears perked after a moment and it twisted back to look at the enclosure.

A low shriek was their only warning before a blast hit the plexiglass. Colt wasn’t afraid to admit he spooked. Greed eyes glared, head low. It hissed and the shriek built again. A purple glow burned in its maw.

“I think it best we leave.”

Colt wasn’t about to argue when both the Doctor and shrieking, snarling dragon made such good points. Everyone shuffled from the area.

Jack elbowed him in the barrel, “So rookie, whatcha think of yout first big case?”

“... Strange.”

Jack gave a barking laugh, “Well, you’re not wrong!” His chuckles were cut short by the Lieutenant.

 _“Doctor,”_ She began, claws on the table of the security office they’d stopped in. Her tone was glass. They weren’t in danger. _Yet._ One wrong step and they would be picking shards from their _grandchildren’s_ hides, “What do you think?”

Dr. Heisel put a hand to her chin and looked over to the security feed. The dragon still hadn’t left its transport cage. Something -it had to the Elf- moved beneath it. The dragon shoved it back with a forepaw.“What _do_ I think?” The Doctor echoed, “I think I don’t have enough information. I think we need to- oh! Hello there!” The dragon’s first paw outside its transport grabbed her attention. It looked about, and upon finding no one else, tucked its head under to drag the Elf out with it.

No word could be used to describe the dragon’s movements beside “slink.” It dropped the Elf who proceeded to scramble to their fee- Colt squinted at the monitor. Security cameras always seemed eight steps behind handheld ones. These ones were better than most, only about three steps behind.

“Am I the only one seeing this?”

“You’re going to need to be a _little_ more specific. Do you mean the Elf scolding the dragon thrice their size, the saddle, or the missing limbs?”

“The last one. How did we miss the foot before?”

Jack shrugged, “Simple. It wasn’t there.”

The Lieutenant shot him a glare. Heisel shook her head, “I’m more impressed you missed the prosthetic tail.”

“The _what?!”_ Yelped a newcomer. Colt hadn’t expected a great number of things that day. The Psoglav vet tech was just another for the list. Pavlo -as his name tag stated- galloped to the monitor, “The _one_ day I’m late and _this_ happens?! What’s going on? Why’s an Elf in there? What even _is_ that dragon?”

Dr. Heisel put a hand on his shoulder, “We’re trying to figure that out.”

Jack let out a soft sigh. “So neither of you know what kind of dragon we’re dealing with? I take it, it's too much to hope anyone else here would know?” The Doctor and vet shared a look. Pavlo shook his head.

“Doubt it. If anyone here would know it’s us.” Said the Doctor.

Jack groaned, “There goes hope of getting the simple question answered today.”

Pavlo’s maw set into a grim line and he set back to watching the monitor. He froze, hackles raised, “Guys.”

Dr. Heisel turned to the rest of the group, “We need to let them settle in. Once they’ve calmed down a bit, adjusted to the new environment, _then_ we can go about doing an examination. With any luck we’ll get at least a genus.”

“Them?” Said the Lieutenant. That _had_ to be against some kind of protocol, leaving a person in the same enclosure as a large dragon.

The Doctor was unperturbed, “Yes, them. I don’t know how we’d even go about separating them. Neither wants to leave the other’s side, and unless something severe happens I’m not about to test our personal protective equipment against those blasts. Besides, it doesn’t take a genius to see separating those two would be terrible for them emotionally. I mean,” she gestured to the monitor, still blocked by Pavlo, _“look!”_

There was a small pause as the Doctor registered the issue. She tapped him on the shoulder, “Pavlo, sweetie, you make a better door than a window. Could you scooch one way or-!”

The Psoglav stumbled back, whimpering. It took a moment to figure out why, but once he did…

Every large animal enclosure had a trough of water. The security camera wasn’t in the best position, but he could still make it out. The rider had removed their helmet for a drink.

That was no Elf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A dragon saying essentially meaning "at the end of the day" or "when push comes to shove."


	7. In Which Things Happen Quickly

They were stuck.

Admittedly, some things were an improvement. For one, Hiccup wasn’t worried about beings captured. The time had come and gone for that. Toothless had taken a nap, so they were both doing alright energy wise. There was water, which was a good sign. And, as a bonus, neither of them were dead yet! How about that?

Of course, the negatives severely outweighed the positives. Not in quantity, but certainly in quality.

Plasma blasts did nothing to the glass-not-glass barrier. Hiccup had no delusions on his own chances in that field. The only other potential exits he’d found were sealed tight. Even when it was used against him, Hiccup had to appreciate fine craftsmanship. The hatch fit beautifully. He had no idea how to attach the lock even  _ after _ he managed to find the door. He still gave it a try, half hoping to recapture some of that pre-Toothless, Loki-cursed energy of his younger years when everything he touched backfired.

It was no use.

Hiccup knew he got absorbed in detail work. He didn’t expect it to take Toothless literally dragging him by his collar away from the door to notice the chaos outside their cage.

He barely had time to draw his spare dagger -thank you false leg storage area- before they were in.

One thing was instantly clear: they weren’t going to win. It was two on too many to count. He had a dagger shorter than his hand and couldn’t even  _ name _ what they were armed with. The fact that none of it seemed sharp did little for his confidence.

He was on Toothless in a moment. So were they. Before the dragon’s hindquarters could leave the ground something was clipped to his tail. A single flap of his wings was all it took before they pitched to the side. A flash of red caught the corner of his eye. He was knocked to the ground

Breath was knocked from his lungs. Pressure on his shoulders, knees, wrists had him pinned. He couldn’t call what he did fighting. It was more of an ineffective attempt at thrashing.

Hiccup barely held eye contact with one of the creatures before they hauled him to his feet. With arms pinned to his sides and the back of his neck in the grip of  _ something, _ all he could do was watch as they swarmed Toothless.

Shrill whistling filled the air, cut short by a yak-headed creature ramming the dragon’s shoulder. It wrapped Toothless’s neck in its arms. Another creature -one with bony green protrusions and the head and shoulders of a spotted cat- fixed a collar around his neck.

He couldn’t make out any more before the creatures dragged him from the area.

Stealth Threat screamed. He twisted and Rolled, desperate not to let Best Mistake out of his sight. They couldn’t be separated. Not again. He leapt across the crowd, creatures crumpling beneath him. Hire built in his chest. His throat hummed. He stumbled, skidding to a halt just before the wall. Another scream and fire built once more. Once more, the hum interrupted and he choked.

Something blindsided him. Stealth Threat stumbled. More piled on. He couldn’t move.

* * *

Ever since the case started Colt had been itching to see what was under that helmet. An I.D. would’ve gone far in clearing up unanswered questions. Even something as small as a pronoun would’ve been a step in the right direction. Calling them “the Elf” got old quick.

Rather than relief or anything in the way of answers, the visage under the helmet only stoked the flames of fear and raised more questions.

Dr. Heisel straightened. A different fire burned in her eyes. She slammed the intercom button on the wall, “I want anyone and everyone with J5 training in Wing D. Full protective gear. Someone grab a Fire Collar and The Rattler.”*

“What’s going on?” Colt asked no one in particular, voice shaking.

The Lieutenant answered, much to the detriment of his already mangled nerves, “They’re going in.”

A smile quirked the edge of The Doctor’s mouth. It was the kind of smile usually found on creatures with teeth larger than your head. Colt gave a start when the meaning of The Lieutenant’s words registered.

“You’re going  _ in _ there? What about letting them settle?” And the myriad of other reasons not to go in there. Out of all of the potential deterrents, why’d he bring  _ that _ up?

“I  _ said _ unless something severe happens.” Dr. Heisel said, “This counts.”

“Is there some kind of protocol for-” He was following her through the corridors at that point. She didn’t slow or so much as glance his way when he spoke. Instead, she cut him off with a sideways glare to cut steel.

_ “Protocol _ left the building the moment a  _ sh’rucking alien _ decided to reveal itself.”

“We don’t know it’s an alien-”

_ “Doesn’t. Matter. _ We don’t know  _ what _ it is, and that’s an  _ issue.” _ Teeth shone between her words.

“You can’t just-” Why was he still talking? And when had he become the voice of reason? College Colt Bronco would be ashamed, or maybe too drunk to notice. Come to think of it, College Colt Bronco probably jumped ship when he decided to become a cop.

The Doctor stopping and ramming a finger into his chest brought him from his introspection. He didn’t know how, but despite being over three feet shorter than the centaur The Doctor  _ loomed. _

“Listen here bucko-”

“It’s Bronco.”   


“Is this,” she gestured to an expression he’d seen before but couldn’t place where due to the majority of his mental fortitude being expended in keeping his knees from buckling, “the face of someone who cares? We’re in uncharted waters. Dangerous waters. We need information, and we need it now. For all any of us know that thing’s spit is explosive and all it needed was a drink to recharge.”   


Colt didn’t know what possessed him to respond. He’d managed to scrounge enough brain power to identify the expression as one of The Lieutenant’s. He’s only ever seen it twice before, and for good reason. Things had only ever gotten that  _ bad _ twice before. His mouth didn’t get the memo the rest of his body did regarding the inverse correlation of interacting with a person wearing that face and remaining un-mangled. “Maybe if we just talk to them-”

“Can you speak its language?”

“I-”

“Then either find me someone who can, or get out of the way.” She stalked away, muttering under her breath.

Someone put a hand on his middle shoulders, “Don’t worry. Heisel knows what she’s doing.”

Colt didn’t turn his dazed stare from the Doctor, “I’m just worried we’re going to destroy any kind of future relation me might’ve had.”

“It was destroyed the moment we threw that net.” The Lieutenant stepped to his front to look him in the eye, “If not before.” 

Colt gave a small start. The storm that was Dr. Heisel swiftly drew his attention before he could contemplate The Lieutenant’s odd demeanor. Dr. Heisel barked orders into the chaos and it obeyed. People rushed in every direction at once and above it all she orchestrated it with the same disciplined ferocity of The Lieutenant.

“Do you know what’s going to happen next?” He asked her.

The Lieutenant let out a thoughtful coo, “If I know Heisel, she’s going to go in, pin them down, and remove at least one for examination.”

“Then what?”

“Depends on the findings. If they’re healthy she might reunite them. If not, it’ll depend on the specific findings.”

Colt swallowed the lump in his throat, “What do you think of all this?” She cocked her head and threw a sharp, questioning look. “I mean, doing this to someone intelligent. Treating them like an animal. It doesn’t sit right with me.”

For a long moment she didn’t respond, staring at the struggling duo and employees doing their best to restrain them.

“The way I see it, we don’t have much of a choice. Not if we want to play it safe. We know nothing about this thing. If it gets sick or injured we won't know why or how to help.” Her gaze fixed on The Doctor, “A good relationship means nothing if one of the parties is dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note for anyone wondering why they weren’t simply tranqued: tranquilizing a reptile is dangerous for the reptile, even if you know the exact dose. Tranquilizing a new species you have no clue the metabolism, allergies, or bloodwork of is a terrible idea for a number of reasons.
> 
> *A Fire Collar is a standard anti-fire device often used by owners of young dragons or fire breathing species during allergy season. It consists of a standard collar with a heat-sensing device and a small motor. When the collar detects a temperature spike indicative of fire breath it will activate the motor, causing a buzz not unlike a massage. This startles the wearer and makes the muscles in their throat unable to aim, leading to the body’s natural response of letting the built up flame flizzle out. It is completely harmless.
> 
> The Rattler is a device to keep certain animals grounded. It consists of a strap and an attached metal tube closed on both ends containing a rolling weight. The strap buckles around the end of the tail. The tube lays perpendicular to the tail and the rolling weight throws off balance, making flight all but impossible for most creatures.


	8. In Which People Examine Other People

He was struggling fulity. It was a simple reflex to start snarking. “You know, usually someone would’ve said what they wanted from me by now. Sure, I’d do it when Fenrir started brewing mead, but at least I’d know what I wasn’t doing!”

They didn’t respond beyond a glance and shift in grip. His metal foot scraped uselessly against too smooth, too clean flooring. It was one against two, or one against six if you went by number of working legs. You didn’t have to be Mimir to figure out who was winning.

Eventually they came to a bright room. Every other surface was metal. Tools he couldn’t name in every color of the rainbow lay on workbenches and counters. A table sat in the center of the room.

Hiccup still tried his very hardest to make things as unpleasant as possible for his captors. Things were made significantly easier once they removed his helmet. Once he got over the momentary jolt of fear from a layer of armor being striped and cool air against his face, that is. It freed up two language-transcending expressions of “no.”

Biting and spitting. Hiccup usually found himself above such methods. Wit, blades, and the fire of friends were far preferred weapons. Any warrior -and Hiccup- would tell you when push came to shove you’ll use anything you can get your hands -or in his case teeth- on.

Thick fur kept him from breaking the skin, but it was enough to make the creature strapping him to the table recoil. That was enough space to get a kick in.  _ That _ earned him a brief moment of satisfaction before the blue creature pinned and restrained his legs to the table.

Once they were sure he couldn’t move they left. He half expected some large creature ending in points to come in and start demanding answers. But no, he’d gotten to a point in life where  _ that _ would make too much sense. They weren’t trying to intimidate him with isolation either. They were back in the room before he could finish contemplating how his life got to this point.

“Seriously guys, what do you  _ want?” _

Hair, blood, spit, and a dental inspection apparently. He was half expecting one of them to take some earwax when they unbound one of his wrists and he realized something. They were closely inspecting him not in the way you did a prisoner, but the way you did a new species. He’d done it himself, taking scale, saliva, and making dental observations on new species of dragons. Yes, he usually did so  _ without _ the restraints, but there were certain species who simply could not stand Vikings. He put those in the book and left the area as soon as possible.

Of all the possible reasons for being tied to a table -none of which were good- this was one Hiccup never suspected he’d ever experience. It made him pause and again raised the question of which realm he was in. What realm had dragons but no humans. Muspelhiem was the obvious answer, but that wasn’t the answer for obvious reasons.

He was yanked from his thoughts and the table. Again, they dragged him through too bright, too smooth halls. The room they left him in was bare, consisting of four gray walls and an invisible glass-not-glass barrier splitting the room in half.

They left him to his thoughts for Norns knew how long. They could be back any moment, or leave him for days. And what were they doing to Toothless? All he could do was worry and pace. The only thing to keep his mind off his own helplessness was the puzzle of his captors. There wasn’t anything in the tales like them, nothing that behaved or appeared similar. A shapeshifter might take one of their forms, but so many in one place? Combined with their actions it made no sense.

Hiccup shrieked in frustration and drove his palm into the barrier. He winced.  _ Wonderful. _ Now he was confused  _ and _ his wrist was sore.  _ Excellent. _

The furious shriek of a Night Fury was one of the few things that could break Hiccup from self-deprecating sarcasm. His head jerked, cocking to the direction of the sound. Another shriek, and a growl and… it was getting closer!

A portion of the wall on the other side of the barrier slid aside. Another panel slid aside and- Toothless! The growl cut the moment he saw his rider. The dragon bounded forward, fully intent on tackling his Drop Horn and not letting go.

Instead, Stealth Threat slammed into an invisible barrier just before he made contact. He reeled. What magic was this? Why taunt them, so close yet unable to touch? “Are you okay?”

Drop Horns couldn’t understand dragons, not fully. Best Mistake could always understand his meaning though, and usually Stealth Threat got the idea of what his Drop Horn said. ‘I think I’m alright. You good, did they hurt you at all?’

“No. They took our fin though.” He flashed his bare tail to emphasize the point.

Best Mistake’s mouth set to a thin line. He set a small paw against the barrier. Stealth Threat put his head on the other side, as close as he could. ‘We’ll get through this. Together.’

* * *

“I’m going to observe the inspection,” Lieutenant Lilitu took a few steps to follow before looking over her shoulder, “Would you like to come?”

Colt startled at the odd invitation. He looked back to people wrestling the dragon into its transport cage. It wasn’t a hard decision.

The creature -whom Colt would heretofore mentally refer to as Ivan until such a time as he received contradictory information- fought no less than their dragon companion. It was only due to Ivan’s size that it took three people to keep him under control, rather than the fifteen or so the dragon required. Even with such a small stature, Ivan still managed to get in a solid hit.

“What are they going to do to them?” Colt asked, watching The Doctor finish strapping Ivan down. It was even smaller without the armor, all bare pink skin.

“Probably just the basics. X-ray, hair, blood, dental. Might take weight. Definitely gonna check under that shirt to make sure they’re not hiding gills.”

Colt didn’t get the chance to see if Ivan had gills, or spines, or anything else. The Lieutenant was called away and Colt followed like a faithful Grimm.

They’d taken the dragon’s equipment and found something interesting. What appeared to be a map. Of course, no one could make heads or tails of most of the markings. The only clear thing was a series of islands which no one could identify and illustrations of dragons which -you guessed it- no one could identify.

The Lieutenant put a hand to the bridge of her nose. “Please tell me the other equipment has some form of answers.”

“Actually, yes! We’ve got an idea of what this thing eats now.”

Huh. Looks like Ivan’s an omnivore. The rest of the equipment though… it was like a mix of a blacksmith’s junk drawer and a survivalist kit. The majority of it was familiar-adjacent. Given a few hours Colt reckoned he’d figure out what most of it was for.

The intercom crackled and the dragon’s cage was moved. To where, Colt wasn’t sure. He didn’t have time to contemplate or follow it though, because that’s when The Lieutenant's phone rang.

“This better be important.” She said. There was a pause and she smiled. It was more like an animal bearing its teeth, but Colt was too focused on her next words to care, “We’ve got a language match.”


	9. In Which A Translator Arrives

Bravo Snarfblart wasn’t a well known name in the public eye. Not like Bilbo Snarfblart, the infamous anchorman, or Barbra Snarfblart, the well respected highway robber. It wasn't even well known in the Snarfblart family. Bravo supposed it was at least partially his own fault. He was never the most… _social_ person. Or talkative. Or… you get the idea,

So, when the cops called -specifically animal control of all things- asking for his help he thought it was a weird joke. After a bit of talking he came to the conclusion it was a bizarre scamming and/or kidnapping attempt. Maybe they’d gotten him mixed up with Bilbo? It had happened before.

There was no reason to target _Bravo_ Snarfblart. The closest thing _he’d_ ever gotten to fame and fortune was coming in third at a chair eating contest. Even that wasn’t much of an achievement. He’d originally come in fourth, only to be moved up when the second place winner was revealed as a swarm of termites in a trench coat. Group competitions wasn’t for another hour, so Marinette Three Thousand Four Hundred And Twelve was kicked and Bravo Snarfblart was awarded bronze.

Of course, none of that information was useful when one was trying to find their keys. His mind was a steel trap with the strength set on random. Sure, it kept all the information he’d ever come into contact with, but it was a crap shoot which bits would remain un-mangled. Except -of course- ancient history.

He loved learning about the past, about his heritage. About how the people thousands of years ago lived, or -more often- didn’t. It rarely came in use outside of work.

Rarely, not never. This was one of those times it seemed. They’d agreed to meet him at the police station. If he was kidnapped there, then the kidnappers honestly deserved it at that point. He’d also have a number of concerns regarding the police force, but luckily it never came to that. He got there and was told by the person behind the desk that yes, he was the right person and was needed at the zoo. They’d tell him why when he got there.

He was greeted by a nervous and moderately frazzled Centaur. They regarded a the other for a few awkward moments, neither sure who should speak first. Eventually the Centaur cleared his throat.

“Er, hello. I’m Officer Bronco. And you are?”

Bravo Snarfblart introduced himself, showed his driver’s license to prove that yes, he was who he said he was, and was led in.

“So, why am I here?” It was really the only reason he showed up at all. Curiosity. What did Bravo Snarfblart possess that someone else didn’t? And why did animal control of all people want whatever it was? The Troll racked his brain but couldn’t find a better reason than his extensive knowledge of old capricorn breeds. Somehow he doubted that knowledge was in any way tied with his unexpected recruitment.

“We needed a translator, and you’re the closest person we could find who knew Old Belis.”

Bravo almost tripped. Of all the possible reasons, that both made sense, answered his first question, and made his second question even more perplexing.

Old Belis was a dead language. As in, completely dead. Deader than his dating pool. No one used it. The _only_ reason Bravo even _knew_ it was his aforementioned love of history. The Beli were a Clan of Trolls who lived thousands of years ago way up in the Northern tips of the Egrids.

Why would _animal control_ of all organizations need an Old Belis translator? A museum he might understand. An eccentric collector he could get. But what possible reason did the people who worked with creatures who couldn’t even _speak_ need for a translator?

Confusion must’ve shown on the Troll’s face. Officer Bronco winced in sympathy, “Yeah, it’s… it’s a weird time. We’re trying to keep things as quiet as we can due to some recent discoveries.”

“That really doesn’t help.”

“I get it . I wish I could be more useful, but we don’t have much information. That’s why _you’re_ here.”

They arrived in what appeared to be a security office. Monitors lined most surfaces. Bravo was met by two other people, each carrying their own air of authority.

“I think it best for The Lieutenant to fill you in.” Officer Bronco ducked out of the room.

The woman -a lieutenant of some kind going off her badge- fixed him a stern look, “I’m going to skip the niceties. Here’s a list of the questions we want answered. The button to turn on the mic is there.” She gestured to each thing as she mentioned it, “Look at that monitor. That’s who you’re asking.”

He did. And promptly had to sit down. The notorious terribleness of security cameras wasn’t enough to keep him from recognizing the creature in the cell. He’d never seen one in real life. They weren’t supposed to actually exist.

“Whelp. We’re _sh’rucked.”_

“Why is that?”

“That’s a human.”

“A human?”

“Yep. Obscure _supposed to be mythological_ creature. Can and will kill pretty much anything. How did you capture it?” The last question was added as he thought of it. They were supposed to be all but impossible to cage.

“With difficulty. How did you know what it was?” The Lieutenant said.

“I am a fountain of usually worthless knowledge. Now, you’re absolutely _sure_ it can’t get out?” The Human didn’t _look_ intimidating. That did nothing to settle Bravo Snarfblart’s rising fear. The vast majority of Human myths cited their intelligence as their most deadly attribute. Its interactivity to the large dragon in the other room though…

“Yes.” Said the other person, an Elf. “It also hasn’t expressed lethal intent towards people. Are you sure you know what this is?”

“I’m starting to doubt it. What’s with the dragon?”

“They were caught together and have some form of connection. The ‘Human’ had it saddled.”

Aaand there went most of his certainty. Every tale of Humans and dragons had them at each other's throats. Sure, there weren’t many Human myths to begin with, and even fewer with dragons, but the ones he found were clear.

This whole situation was murkier than his basement after half a week of rain. There was only one way to clear this up.

“I need to speak with this thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important note: I may need to take a small break from updating. I've been writing as I've been posting and it's getting stressful. I may also re-do this chapter at some point, as I'm not entirely satisfied with it. Thought I should tell you folks so it won't be a surprise if I stop updating for a little while.
> 
> -April 23, 2020


End file.
